Once Alec declared that on Sunday we were going skiing.
“We stick/stay at home too much,” he said. “Why not ski some
ten or fifteen kilometers in the forest/through the forest
(woods)? It won’t take us much time, and we’ll feel fine all
week/the whole week.”
When I came to the railway station right on time/exactly on
time, I saw several/some people on the platform (who were)
waiting for the train, but Alec was not among them.
“Who knows what might/may/could have delayed/detained
him,” I thought and decided to wait a little/a bit.
The wind was chilling/piercing me to the bones/to the marrow
and soon I began to give way to my temper/anger (and
soon I began to seethe). “Who is he that I should wait for him?”
But just the moment I was about to leave/was on the point
of leaving Alec turned up/showed up, ten minutes late and
began to explain rather incoherently/inarticulately/about the
clock he had forgotten to wind (up).
I gave way to my temper (to irritation) and gave him a piece
of my mind. After all, I am not (one) to be treated like that.
Still we did go, but both of us were out of spirits (in low spirits)
/but neither of us was any longer in the mood/but we had
both been put out of humour/both our spirits had sunk.
When we got offthe train at a small station, we went to the
forest: I led the way (I went first) and Alec brought up the
rear/followed me. He told me that way I wouldn’t be able to
lag/fall/drop behind (I wouldn’t have a chance of lagging/
falling/dropping behind).
It had been snowing all night, and there was no ski-track yet
(and no ski-track had been made/laid yet). It was difficult for me
(It cost ma quite an effort) to lead the way, so I said “Why not
change places/swop round? It won’t cost you so much effort to
lead the way, after all you are a good skier.”
But Alec refused/didn’t want to/wouldn’t agree. “He has
done it out of sheer malice,” I thought. But when a few minutes
later I looked back/looked over my shoulder, I saw to my utter
astonishment/to my great amazement that he was trailing
(dragging himself along) somewhere behind, evidently unable
to keep pace with me.
Everything was clear now: he just couldn’t ski. I wished to
God that I had not gone with him (I was very sorry that I had
gone with him). The point wasn’t that (It wasn’t because) he
had proved/turned out (to be) a bad skier. He was a Her and
a braggart/boaster. And that was something I could not put
up with.